Recurring Scars
by California-Babe
Summary: All is shattered when Ryan leaves Newport. Hearts are broken, friendships torn, and peoples lives put on hold... What happens as he comes back to find out the horrible news.... about Marissa? Chapter 6 is up! RR!
1. Recurring Scars

Recurring Scars

Rating PG- for substance contact within the latter part of this story.

Proclaimers: I do not own the O.C. so yeah, just thought I would make that umm, noticable. Althought Owning a million dollar show and actually living in Newport would be nice, quite frankly,. at the moment, I don't. Enjoy!

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All is silent.  
  
No one speaks.  
  
A dog barks.  
  
A knock is heard.  
  
A tall, dark haired woman goes to answer a tattered screen door.  
  
Reluctantly opening it, she sees a man, a man in a suit, dark hair mopped upon his head, with a distressed look strewn upon his face.  
  
A face that carried hurtful memories, of past, and of present.  
  
A briefcase was at his side.  
  
This man, was non other then Sandy Cohen.  
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The yellow colored plaster walls surrounding him were fading, and looked as if they were plucked straight out of Mexico. But Sandy Cohen was not in Mexico. He was quite far from it.  
  
He was sitting at a kitchen table, being offered coffee.   
  
Sandy was not in Mexico, or even near it.   
  
He was sitting at a kitchen table, in Chino.  
  
"No, thanks, no coffee." He said, distressfully.  
  
The tall dark haired woman sat, and poured herself a glass.   
  
"Mr. Cohen," She started.  
  
"Please, call me Sandy." He interrupted.  
  
The woman took a sip of her coffee, and tried to fix up her hair, it being just pulled back into a tight bun.  
  
"Mr. Cohen," she continued. "He isn't here. He won't be back for hours, he's working, at the garage."  
  
The woman took another sip and looked at a baby monitor anxiously.  
  
Then she looked into her coffee, as if it was a whirling vortex, hypnotizing her.  
  
"Sandy, She will be awake soon, please, tell me what exactly you are doing here."  
  
"You know exactly why I am here." He said.  
  
"I need to talk to Ryan."  
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"How is she?" A soft voice said into a telephone.  
  
A tall thin woman, with sleek blonde hair standing within a sitting area was in a bathrobe, and looked as if she was distraught. With red lines marking thousands of tears shed, all upon her face.  
  
" I will try to let him know as soon as I can. Send her our love."  
  
And then she hung up the phone.  
  
"Kirsten?"   
  
A man walked in, and laid a rest- assuring hand upon her shoulder.  
  
She shuttered, then, turned around and sobbed at the familiar face.  
  
"Jimmy! Oh My God it is just, wonderful to see you. This has just, been…"  
  
Kirsten said, speechless, yet with a look of relief.  
  
"Yeah, I know. Where's Sandy? I need to talk to him." Jimmy stated.  
  
Kirsten sighed, and sat down. She looked up with heavy eyes. Then she said,  
  
"He's in Chino."   
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Sandy had sat in that yellow colored plaster kitchen for hours, finally accepting a cup of coffee.  
  
Twice.  
  
Make that three times. And just as he was starting his third cup, a tall, light haired man walked into the room, looking rather tired.  
  
"Well, hello Mr. Atwood, finally deciding to grace us with your presence?"  
  
With a sigh of relief Ryan sat down at the table, took a sip of coffee and looked up at Sandy.  
  
"Sandy? What are you doing here? In Chino?" Ryan looked confused, and he glanced at the tall, dark haired woman.  
  
She looked at him, with distain, and turned towards the stairs, and left rather abruptly.  
  
"Sandy? Why are you here?" Ryan said.  
  
Sandy took a sip of coffee, and stared into Ryan's eyes, as he had done many times previous, signaling dread.  
  
"You have no idea? Do you?" Sandy muttered.  
  
Ryan shook his head.  
  
Silence grew.  
  
Sandy stared, into his eyes, and looked as if he were about to burst into tears.  
  
Sandy. Sandy Cohen, about to cry.   
  
He didn't even grow emotional when his son was born.   
  
He didn't cry when Ryan left Newport.  
  
Yet his eyes grew misty.  
  
This was the signal.  
  
Something had gone on.  
  
And Ryan needed to find out. Immediately.

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He left.   
  
He had left Newport.  
  
Left, just gone. He flew away like a flock of gulls towards the south.  
  
A woman stood there, motionless, amongst a pile of boxes, and a four post bed.   
  
She had long brown locks, which were flaying about due to her open window, and she just stood. Stood there, until she bent down.  
  
She bent down towards a box, underneath her bed, and pulled it out, laying it across her lap.  
  
Opening the box, she locked her bedroom door, and sat down again. As she pulled out a bottle of Vodka.  
  
A tear dropped, and splashed upon the glass container.   
  
Stepping out onto the balcony, she opened it and took a sip.  
  
She whispered,  
  
"Ryan."   
  
As she coughed and trembled. Then started sobbing.  
  
The woman smashed the bottle of vodka against the brick wall, and screeched,  
  
"Ryan!" As the bits of bottle were strewn across the balcony.  
  
She collapsed, and laid on the cement floor of the balcony crying, and sobbing horribly.  
  
The girl picked up a shard of the glass and put it to her wrist.  
  
She screamed,   
  
"So help me God I will do it! I cannot handle this anymore!"  
  
But she put the shard of glass down, and reached for her cell phone.  
  
Dialing the numbers, she could think of only one number to call.  
  
"Oliver?"

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Reviews are greatly appreciated! Can u guess who the dark haired woman is? hmmm hard one eh? LOL just kidding. anyways, Good Or Bad, Reviews are appreciated! Bon Appetit! Corny, yes, but I NEEDED to do that lol.


	2. Part Two

Part Two.  
  
Yes, I do know this is a tad confusing. Yet, all will come out near the middle, and all will make sense. I hope. Anyways, If you get too confused, email me and I will give you some spoilers and try to explain, but, just keep reading, all these dilemmas will come out in the end, and become one. Like, totally enjoy!  
  
The sun was setting, and the sounds of sirens emerged from nowhere, in the desolate community of Chino.  
  
Sandy had entered his Mercedes Benz and laid his briefcase on the dash.  
  
Ryan opened the door to the car, and hesitated.  
  
Looking back at the bungalow, he said to the tall, dark haired woman,  
  
"I will be back, take care of her, and, Teresa,"  
  
He stopped.   
  
He walked over towards her and whispered something in her ear.  
  
"Don't wait up for me. I don't know when I am coming back."  
  
She nodded, looking worried, and went inside the house.  
  
Ryan left, with Sandy at his side, to find out what had gone on.  
  
What had gone on when he left Newport.  
  
He had a horrible feeling within the pit of his stomach.  
  
Although Sandy would not look at him, without frowning, Ryan had guessed something.  
  
Ryan knew something.   
  
He knew something had happened.  
  
To Marissa.  
  
And he needed to find out what exactly happened.  
  
And that's why they were driving to Newport.  
  
As they drove away, far away, from the yellow plaster kitchen, in that bungalow, within Chino.  
  
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Kirsten stood in her kitchen drinking a cup of coffee.  
  
She was standing, beside Jimmy sitting at the table.  
  
He was reading a document.  
  
It was a document from the hospital.  
  
He sighed.  
  
"I thought this would never happen again."  
  
"I know, I know." Kirsten consoled.  
  
Jimmy held up the document for Kirsten to read.  
  
She held it up, and was suddenly struck with pain, and sorrow.  
  
Those documents were Marissa's.  
  
Marissa's hospital papers. 


	3. Part Three

The sun was about to set, and it shone across the ocean.  
  
It glistened and sparkled in one's eye, and showed many things.  
  
Wonder.  
  
Romance.  
  
And for some, their bleak future.  
  
The girl with the flaying brown locks was standing on yet another balcony.   
  
One other than her own.  
  
She looked at a man with short, black hair, standing within a sitting area and said,  
  
"I can't take it anymore, Oliver. I just can't"  
  
And she started to sob horribly.  
  
"Yeah, it's okay Marissa."  
  
He laid and arm around her fragile frame, and led her into the sitting room.  
  
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They were in the Newport Beach Hotel, and were sitting on a leather couch, until Marissa got up.  
  
She walked over somberly towards the refrigerator, and pulled out a bottle.  
  
A bottle of Tequila.  
  
And she took that bottle of Tequila and walked back over to the couch, tears still streaming down her face.  
  
She cracked it open and took a long, hard, sip.  
  
She coughed.  
  
Then Oliver had a suggestion.  
  
"These will make it go away faster."  
  
He held up a bottle of pills.  
  
Marissa hesitated, and frowned.  
  
"Are you sure?" she said.  
  
Oliver nodded.  
  
And despite her instincts, Marissa grabbed the bottle with shaky hands, and popped a pill in her mouth.  
  
That's when it got bad.  
  
Real bad.  
  
Marissa hazily looked at the ceiling and exclaimed,  
  
" If I could kill myself, right here and now, I would do it."  
  
Oliver gave her a look and walked across the room towards the cabinet and pulled out a box.  
  
He brought the box, an old cardboard one, over and said,  
  
"Open it."  
  
"Okay.." she said.  
  
And that's exactly what she did.  
  
She looked in awe, and also in fear.  
  
She was confused.  
  
She didn't know what to do.  
  
Inside that box, contained a gun. 


	4. Part Four

"You're not serious, are you?"  
  
Marissa said, frantically.  
  
The room was spinning, twirling to her, and she was dizzier than ever.   
  
She thought about it for a second then picked up the gun.  
  
She shook it.  
  
Then she put it back into the box.  
  
Examining it, she said,  
  
"I can't. Oh God, I don't feel so well."  
  
Oliver stared at her with wide eyes.  
  
The cream walls were spinning.  
  
Twirling.  
  
She felt a pain.  
  
A numbness in her left side.  
  
She stood, wobbly, and then felt her legs collapsed beneath her.  
  
Marissa Cooper laid on the floor, passed out, for hours, until a maid came, and saw the horrific site, immediately calling the head office and the police.  
  
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The sun had set an hour previous, and the tide had come in for the night.  
  
But Sandy Cohen and Ryan were still driving back towards Newport.  
  
Silence.  
  
No one spoke.  
  
Not one.  
  
Ryan tried start a conversation many times, but all times he was shut down by the man driving the vehicle.  
  
Ryan had never seen Sandy this way.  
  
So quiet. So vulnerable.  
  
So weak.  
  
Soon they were pulling up to the house, and Ryan stepped out of the car, as did the driver.  
  
Kirsten awaited them at the door, in her robe, still with that horrible look strewn across her face.  
  
Reddened with thousands of teardrops.  
  
Sandy got up to the door to say hello, and was embraced by Kirsten as soon as he was within arms reach.  
  
She sobbed tremendously.  
  
"Oh Sandy."  
  
He hushed her and brought her inside the house.  
  
He sat her down, and Ryan followed them into the sitting room.  
  
He tried to calm her, but she wouldn't stop.  
  
"It's so horrible." she exclaimed.  
  
"Marissa's gone into relapse."  
  
Sandy looked shocked.  
  
Ryan gasped then immediately interjected.  
  
"Wait a minute. What's wrong with Marissa?" Ryan almost burst into tears.  
  
He still cared about her.  
  
Even though he left.  
  
If only she knew that.  
  
The two Cohen's looked up with heavy hearts.  
  
Sandy decided to break the fall.  
  
Ryan's head was spinning.  
  
He felt weak, and weak in the heart. He looked around, and short breaths came out of his dry and raspy mouth.  
  
He was afraid.  
  
This boy would throw his fists any time he had the chance, and take on the toughest guy in the school, but now he was afraid.  
  
Very afraid.  
  
He knew he had something horrible to do with it.  
  
Something horrible to do with Marissa.  
  
He was shaking.  
  
"Ryan," Sandy started.  
  
Ryan was shaking more so than before, he felt his heart shake. His brain stop.  
  
"After you left Marissa, well she became rather depressed."  
  
Ryan shook his head, he was getting hit hard.  
  
"She started using substances, again. And she went to a hotel…"  
  
Ryan cut in.  
  
"With who?" he exclaimed.  
  
"Oliver."   
  
"What? That son of a…"   
  
Sandy cut him off.  
  
"Listen Ryan. Just listen."  
  
Sandy had a rather harsh tone to his voice at this point.  
  
" She used some substances, and took some drugs. She passed out and hit herself real hard, causing a severe concussion…"  
  
Ryan's head was spinning, he felt strange.  
  
"And it was too much for her body, she just shut down. She's been fighting it, but she's been slipping in and out of a coma."  
  
Dear God.  
  
What had he caused?  
  
Ryan felt his head and heart throbbing, he had to grab his knees, nearly toppling over if Sandy and Kirsten hadn't of caught him.  
  
"Oh My God. What?"  
  
Ryan burst into tears.  
  
He just could not handle it.  
  
It was all too much.  
  
Kirsten laid an arm around his shoulders, and cried as well.  
  
Ryan just sat there, head in hands, and sobbed.  
  
Probably for the first time since he was a child.  
  
He needed to see her.  
  
He needed to feel her.  
  
He needed her to know something.  
  
He needed her to understand.  
  
He needed her to know what he was going to do next.  
  
He just needed her.  
  
Ryan was so overwhelmed, that's all he remembered feeling, then everything going black. 


	5. Part Five

Ryan burst into tears.  
  
He just could not handle it.  
  
It was all too much.  
  
Kirsten laid an arm around his shoulders, and cried as well.  
  
Ryan just sat there, head in hands, and sobbed.  
  
Probably for the first time since he was a child.  
  
He needed to see her.  
  
He needed to feel her.  
  
He needed her to know something.  
  
He needed her to understand.  
  
He needed her to know what he was going to do next.  
  
He just needed her.  
  
Ryan was so overwhelmed, that's all he remembered feeling, then everything going black.  
  
It was pitch black outside, and the palms were shivering as the night eventually grew cool.  
  
Parties were raging, and people were eating, shopping, or taking longs walks upon the beach.  
  
Or in some cases, skateboarding.  
  
In fact, a lot of people were skateboarding at the pier, just after sunset.  
  
And one boy was there, with his curly black hair, alongside a beautiful girl.  
  
"Cohen," she said  
  
"What's wrong now?"  
  
Offering her arm as a consoled gesture around his neck.  
  
He didn't say anything, he just looked onto the Horizon.  
  
Looking rather bleak.  
  
"Cohen!?" she exclaimed.  
  
"Oh sorry Summer."  
  
He said.  
  
"I don't know, I mean, a year ago you didn't even know I existed. No one did. I was always just that skinny little sarcastic Jewish boy who ran the Comic Preservation Club, that no one knew existed. Only member."  
  
He looked solemnly down towards his Converse 58' replica sneakers, and said,  
  
"I mean, I was always the kid getting beat up, usually by Luke and the water Polo team.  
  
That was all until Ryan came. He was my first real friend. Not to ditch me in a year. Or run away."  
  
The two got up and walked towards the shops, sitting on a nearby bench, still hearing the waves clap against the jagged rocks.  
  
Seth looked as if he were about to cry.  
  
"And what do I have now? Ryan's gone. I mean, I lived next door to Marissa…"  
  
"Coop…"  
  
Summer mumbled looking worried.  
  
" Next door to her all my life. And she never said anything to me, until Ryan came. I was just that little boy next door who had no friends and always got beat up. Now that he's gone I have no one."  
  
Seth had never looked this way before, always happy, and funny, not sad and depressed.  
  
"You have me, Cohen."  
  
Summer said, laying her hand, and put her fingers within his.  
  
But Seth just pulled away.  
  
"Summer. Before Ryan came you had no idea I even existed. Ryan's gone now, so I guess I am supposed to go back to being that friendless, geek of a guy. And your supposed to go back to not having any clue what or who I am."  
  
Seth got up and grabbed his board, heading down the road.  
  
He was crying.  
  
He never felt like this so defeated. So lonely.  
  
The wind blew a gust, making Summer feel cold.  
  
She closed her eyes, and tears streamed down her face.  
  
She didn't know what was happening.  
  
She screamed,   
  
"Cohen!"  
  
But he didn't come back. He was just riding his board down towards the boardwalk.  
  
She thought she had lost him.  
  
And Marissa too.  
  
This completely overwhelmed her.  
  
Completely.  
  
She just sat on that bench and broke into tears.  
  
Until the boarders had left, the parties dwindled into stale rooms, and people walking went home. So she decided to as well. 


	6. part Six

White walls, and an uncomfortable bed.  
  
Beeping.  
  
Buzzing.  
  
Head spinning.  
  
Hushed voices, talking ever so softly.   
  
A sharp pain in the back of her neck.  
  
A numbness in her left leg.  
  
She opened her eyes ever so softly.  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
The girl said, laying beneath blankets in a hospital gown.  
  
"She's awake!" a voice cried.  
  
A soft gentle touch was surrounding her hand.  
  
"Marissa? Sweetie?"  
  
Marissa turned her head ever so slightly, to see the image of her dad, holding her hand and sitting beside her.  
  
Jimmy was sighing relief, as his daughter awoke from her hours of coma.  
  
"Sweetheart." Jimmy cried, and rubbed her hand, and squeezed it tighter.  
  
"Dad?" She said, wearily.  
  
Looking up she saw clean white tiles, and to the right she saw a window.  
  
With the rolling waves all across the ocean, and the warm sand dunes being trampled.  
  
The sun beat heavily upon the pane, and she could feel it, and she smiled a bit.  
  
Past her Father, she saw her Mother, Julie Cooper, alongside a nurse, discussing something.  
  
Turning her head ever so slightly, she saw a doctor, and a few nurses.  
  
Then her sister.  
  
She saw Summer.  
  
Too weak to speak, she tried to smile as best as she could, to give them a sign she could identify them.  
  
Closing her eyes she could only picture one person in her delicate mind.  
  
Ryan.  
  
Marissa tossed a bit at the thought, then looked to her left to see another man.  
  
Her eyes widened and a tear rolled down her cheek.  
  
She was overcome with a sense of warmth and safety.  
  
She smiled a bit wider at the person she saw.  
  
He touched her cheek, ever so slightly, and told her he was there.  
  
She started to cry, and the doctors burst into the room, telling all to leave at once.  
  
This was too much for Marissa too handle. Her weak and fragile condition was complicated, and she could feel her eyes getting heavy, and closing.  
  
But as they closed she smiled seeing the picture of the man inside her head as she slipped back into another coma.  
  
She whispered,  
  
"Ryan."  
  
Then fell fast into her deep sleep. 


End file.
